


Crazy, Destructive

by lost_stickie_note



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Kleptomania, M/M, Pyromania, Zhangjun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-06-03 03:44:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19455658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_stickie_note/pseuds/lost_stickie_note
Summary: Zhangjing is a kleptomaniac.He steals Yanjun's heart.Yanjun is a pyromaniac.He burns Zhangjing's life down to the ground.Perhaps this is a love story.





	1. C is for Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cra·zy  
> /ˈkrāzē/
> 
> adjective  
> mentally deranged, especially as manifested in a wild or aggressive way.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this on a whim since I really liked the premise and mostly will be self-indulgent. :) It's been absolute eons since I've posted anything, but definitely still working on stuff. Chapters for this one are going to be short, and not quite sure where this is going to go, but happy to be updating! ♡ I am hoping since chapters are short that I will actually update this more regularly. Didn't hand this to my beta or proofread it so excuse any mistakes and/or point them out to me, haha.
> 
> Follow me on Twitter: [@loststickienote](https://twitter.com/loststickienote) for updates, randomness, etc. or to scream about Zhangjun, my DMs are always open.

Zhangjing drums his fingers on the table impatiently, scoping out the people in the coffee shop, the midafternoon rush still on its last legs, the shop just about three-quarters full. The cute busboy is flitting around clearing off tables, the last vestiges of empty cups and half-filled plates to be gathered. It’s his favorite place to people-watch, the coffee shop providing an endless source of amusement for him, and Zhangjing likes to give the people imaginary lives, bring them to life with a story.

_There._ The girl with the dyed blue hair tips sitting across from the boy who’s on his phone, his attention being soaked up so thoroughly that he doesn’t notice the girl’s frosty glare. Zhangjing decides that the girl is a rebel, she doesn’t listen to her parents at home even though they spoil her. _She’s an only child._ Zhangjing decides. _Used to getting what she wants._ And she’s only dating the boy across from her because he infuriates her parents. _They disapprove._ But only three weeks into their relationship, and he’s already driving her crazy. She won’t break up with him though, if only to prove her parents wrong.

The boy sitting alone at the countertop, his legs dangling off the high-seated chair, round-rimmed glasses, and his nose in a book, glancing up every so often. Zhangjing feels like he knows him, he’s seen the boy so many times at this particular coffee shop. _He always orders a black coffee._ And never finishes it. The boy’s longing looks towards the cashier don’t escape Zhangjing’s notice. _He’s clearly only here because he has a crush._ He doesn’t have the heart to tell the boy that his book isn’t right-side up and that his faux nerdy glasses aren’t fooling anyone.

The girl working furiously on her laptop at the window seat, always typing with a wild abandon, only pausing every so often to look up and take a sip of her frappuccino. She’s here on the dot at 1pm every day without fail, something he only noticed after weeks of sitting in the café. He had passed her once on the way to the bathroom, curiously craning his neck to see what was on her screen – entries of a blog, he couldn’t catch the topic. _She writes fanfiction when no one’s looking._ He decides that the blogging is a hobby for her to make a living, so that she can support her real passion.

There’s a boy sitting at the table in the middle of the café, someone new that he hasn’t ever seen before, and he turns his attention towards the boy curiously. He’s dressed nicely, a turtleneck sweater pulled over jeans, a tan trenchcoat slung over the back of his chair, the umbrella still slightly dripping. _Ah yeah, rain._ Zhangjing glances outside the window, still a gloomy mess. It had started coming down hard an hour ago and still hasn’t let up, the raindrops clinging to the glass, the pitter patter heard faintly over the sounds of the coffee shop. _Back to the boy._ He has a multitude of books open, intently working on something, and Zhangjing watches, entranced at the nonstop movement of the boy’s pencil, making loops in the air, only pausing every once in a while so the boy can flip the page. _He’s an A student, perfectionist class president type._ He decides that the boy is on the swim team, well-loved by all his teammates, dating the most popular girl in school.

Zhangjing’s mouth curves into a smile.

_Easy peasy._

He grabs his half-empty coffee and his coat, striding over to where the boy is sitting, eyeing the bag on the seat next to him, the open zipper calling his name like a siren’s song. Two steps away and he fake-trips, the cup flying out of his left hand, the right hand reaching out to stop his fall, knocking over the other boy’s bag in the process. The lid on his to-go cup instantly comes apart when his coffee hits the ground, the liquid spilling out on to the floor, and Zhangjing feels a twinge of regret when some of it splatters on the papers that spill out of the boy’s backpack.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, so, so sorry.” He apologizes to the boy, who leans down to pick up his things. “I really didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay.” The other boy’s voice is softer than he expects, and even though Zhangjing had noticed he was definitely attractive on some level from afar, he doesn’t expect the boy to be quite so handsome up close, his eyes a piercing grey from what Zhangjing assumes are colored contacts, his nose straight and regal, marred only by the hint of a mole on the tip.

Zhangjing shakes himself out of his thoughts, out of the corner of his eye spotting what he wants, a blur of blue and gold, small and compact. Before he can even second-guess himself, he palms it as he picks up the papers, slipping it into his pocket in the blink of an eye. “Here you go,” He hands the other boys the stack of papers he straightened. “I’m really sorry once again. I hope the coffee didn’t get on anything important.”

“Nah, I can always rewrite my notes.” The busboy tuts at them, motioning them to get out of the way so he can wipe the floor. “Thanks for helping me.”

“Yeah, no problem. It was my fault anyway.” Zhangjing stands up awkwardly, not sure if he should say anything else to the boy who’s still quietly putting everything back into his backpack. “Well, see you around, maybe.” He turns, swiftly leaving the coffee shop, pulling up the hood of his coat to shield himself from the rain, his hand in his pocket, fingers running over the smooth hard plastic, his heart still beating in his chest loud enough to hear it in his ears, the rush of adrenaline bringing a giddy smile to his face.

_A win for today._

He hunches over as he walks, weaving around people in the crowd, his shoes already wet through, the uncomfortable feeling of his dampened socks making his toes squirm. Zhangjing quickens his pace, eager to get home and get out of the rain. No one pays him any heed as he passes, his head ducked down so his face is hidden, glancing upwards to sneak peeks at people walking by. And he is so absorbed in his own thoughts that he doesn’t hear the running footsteps approaching, doesn’t hear anything before it’s too late, the sudden sharp pain of his left arm being twisted shooting up from his wrist.

“I think you have something of mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos, and feedback are always appreciated!
> 
> Twitter: [@loststickienote](https://twitter.com/loststickienote)  
> CC: [@loststickienote](https://curiouscat.me/loststickienote)


	2. R is for Reckless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reck·less  
> /ˈrekləs/
> 
> adjective  
> (of a person or their actions) without thinking or caring about the consequences of an action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> La~ Today is my Twitter anniversary so I thought I'd crank out an update. ^^ Sorry if the chapters are going a bit slow at the moment. Attempting to establish some backstory elements first. :)
> 
> Follow me on Twitter: [@loststickienote](https://twitter.com/loststickienote) for updates, randomness, etc. or to scream about Zhangjun, my DMs are always open.
> 
> Comments, kudos, and feedback are always appreciated!

Yanjun is focused on organizing everything back into his backpack, the pens into the pocket at the side, the papers clipped together to keep them from falling apart before being shoved into the folder so they won’t be bent, his house keys tangled up with his earbuds, which he carefully tries to separate, already having broken one pair of earbuds this semester. He doesn’t respond to the other boy, assuming that he has left already, sighing over today’s unfortunate turn of events. He finishes efficiently, everything put back into its place. That is, until he checks the other side pocket, his fingers only brushing emptiness and the rough fabric of the backpack against his fingertips. _Shit._ The face of the boy flashes through his head, wide bright eyes full of apologies, hair slightly mussed in a somewhat charming way. It takes him a few seconds too long to shove the rest of his books into his backpack, cursing at the disorderly mess, but too anxious to fix it, his only thought on catching the other boy before he disappears.

He doesn’t bother even opening his umbrella, the rain coming down hard still, and Yanjun can feel his hair sticking to his forehead in a matter of minutes. There aren’t many people outside, but still, scanning the crowd for the other boy is difficult, everyone blending together in different shades of blacks and grays. He racks his brain for what the other boy is wearing, not able to quite bring up his clothes, the only thing coming to him is the boy’s face. _Goddamnit._ The flash of color jogs his memory, the yellow a blinding splash of color compared to the dreary surroundings, the raincoat of the boy at the coffee shop a lot more distinct than he realized.

Yanjun breaks out into a light jog to catch up, his backpack bouncing uncomfortably with each step he takes, and he wishes that he hadn’t brought so many heavy books with him. He gets closer and closer to the other boy’s figure ahead, praying the boy doesn’t realize and bolt away, dodging around people walking the other way. _Perfect._ He’s within arm’s reach in a minute or two, and Yanjun grabs at the other boy’s arm, twisting hard to get his attention.

“I think you have something of mine.”

The other boy turns halfway, the hood of his jacket falling down to reveal his face contorted in pain, and Yanjun applies just a tiny bit more pressure. _Got to be convincing._ “I want it back. Now.”

Even through the rain, Yanjun can see that the other boy is in pain, and he lets up slightly on the boy’s arm, not really intending to hurt him. “Okay, okay. I’ll give it back. Just don’t break my goddamn arm.” The boy slides his free hand into his pocket, holding out the blue and gold lighter flat in his palm to him like a peace offering. Yanjun breathes a sigh of relief at the sight, happy that he hadn’t really lost it. “I don’t see what’s the big deal. It’s just a lighter. You can definitely afford another based on how nice your coat is.” The other shakes out his arm as Yanjun releases his grasp, rolling circles with his wrist.

Yanjun slips the lighter into his jeans pocket, the small weight settling in and putting him back at ease. He hadn’t realized he had been on edge before, the set tenseness in his shoulders relaxing automatically. _It’s important to me._ He wants to retort at the other boy, but the desire to avoid any more confrontation overwhelms him. “It’s a big deal when you take stuff that isn’t yours.”

The other boy glares at him, his chin jutting out with defiance, the rain slicking his hair so that the strands have clumped together, falling into his eyes, looking straight out of a donghua, a scene in which the main character swears to get revenge upon the enemy who murdered his family. _Kind of cute, very much my type._ Yanjun amends his thoughts. _Well, if he didn’t just try to steal from me._ He relents, his words breaking off lamely towards the end. “But I forgive you. So no hard feelings?”

He holds out his hand for the shorter boy to shake, which the other boy ignores with a punctuated eye roll. “My name’s Yanjun. Nice to meet you.” No response. “Okay, see you around I guess.”

The boy gives him a look of disdain before turning and walking away.

_Well, that went well._

Half an hour later and Yanjun is home, the lights to his house all off, the note on the counter from his parents reminding him to study, the plate of leftovers from last night’s dinner in the fridge for him to re-heat. _We went to have dinner with the Chen family._ Yanjun feels his chest tighten, but he ignores the feeling, instead concentrating on eating as quickly as he can, clearing the counter and washing the dishes left in the sink. And it is as if the day’s events are just catching up with him, the tiredness hitting him suddenly, and he goes through the motions to finish getting ready for bed. Shower, brushing his teeth, pajamas.

He digs the lighter out of his jeans’ pocket before throwing them in with his dirty laundry, placing the lighter on his bedside table, the familiar motion of his thumb running over the ridges a comforting ritual before turning out the lights, the darkness filling his room, seeping into all the corners.

Yanjun drifts off into dreamless sleep, his mind falling into a deep void, with nothing to be seen except a speck of bright yellow far off into the distance that he can never reach no matter how hard he tries, just beyond his grasp, and each time he thinks he’s caught it, the color slips right through his fingers, washed away until he’s left holding nothing but air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos, and feedback are always appreciated!
> 
> Twitter: [@loststickienote](https://twitter.com/loststickienote)  
> CC: [@loststickienote](https://curiouscat.me/loststickienote)


	3. A is for Antagonistic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an·tag·o·nis·tic  
> /anˌtaɡəˈnistik/
> 
> adjective  
> showing or feeling active opposition or hostility toward someone or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for being rather slow on updates. :) Been working on some other fics in addition to this one.
> 
> Follow me on Twitter: [@loststickienote](https://twitter.com/loststickienote) for updates, randomness, etc. or to scream about Zhangjun, my DMs are always open.
> 
> Comments, kudos, and feedback are always appreciated!

“Get up, get up Zhangjing.” He winces as the bright light floods his room, the covers on his bed pulled off, leaving him shivering slightly from the chilliness of the morning. “You need to go to school. I’m not having you miss any more than you already have.” Zhangjing cracks open one eye to see his sister glaring down at him, her hands on her hips. “And don’t think I don’t know you’ve been cutting classes either. I’m not stupid.”

“Jie, never in a million years would I say you’re stupid.” Zhangjing jokes, deftly avoiding the hand that comes down to flick him in the forehead. “Okay, okay. I’m going. And I promise to stay at school the whole day. Just for you.”

Two hours later and he is sincerely regretting his words, sitting in a classroom bored out of his mind, listening to his teacher drone on about mathematics, missing the point of the lecture entirely. _Maybe I shouldn’t have skipped all week._ Zhangjing swears to himself under his breath. First week back, and he is already behind. _Jie is going to kill me._ A squeak, and the door to the classroom is opened, a boy slipping in, his face full of apologies, ducking his head towards the front at the teacher. “Nevermind, Lin Yanjun. Just take your seat.”

With a shock, he realizes it’s the same boy from yesterday, unmistakable even in his school uniform, a face that he would never forget. The boy takes his seat in the front row, immediately cracking open his textbook to follow along with the lesson. _Figures._ Zhangjing is happy to have all his assumptions confirmed, knowing that Yanjun is the perfect student type. He watches the back of the other boy’s head for the rest of the lesson, finding immense enjoyment from making up more details of Yanjun’s life.

He nearly doesn’t hear the bell go off, signaling the start of the lunch period, and with a jolt, he grabs his backpack, determined to follow Yanjun out the door, the strongest urge to talk to him burning in his chest. Zhangjing finds his way to the cafeteria, scanning the crowd for the other boy, spotting him almost immediately in line to get lunch. He sidles up to Yanjun, ignoring the indignant cries from the people behind him, complaining that he is cutting the line.

“Hey, Yanjun.”

The taller boy spins around with surprise, clearly caught off guard judging from the expression on his face. “ _You_.” Yanjun’s eyebrows go up. “Wait, how do you even know my name?”

“That’s for me to know.” Zhangjing pauses and relents. “Okay, I’m in your class, and I heard the teacher say your name when you came in late.” Yanjun’s eyes widen, his gaze flitting around nervously. “Anyway…” Now it’s Zhangjing’s turn to be nervous, not quite sure whether he should be trying to befriend the boy he just tried to _steal_ from. “…do you want to maybe sit and have lunch together?” He shifts from one foot to another, waiting for a response, hoping that the answer is yes though he’s not sure why. Maybe it’s because Yanjun didn’t write him off immediately yesterday, even after he found out what Zhangjing was up to. Zhangjing doesn’t know. But he can’t help the hopeful feeling that is blossoming in his chest, a small bud of perhaps a new beginning.

The feeling immediately dies, deflating all the air out of him, when Yanjun doesn’t respond, instead craning his head to look around the cafeteria as if searching for someone, anyone to come save him. “I mean, uh, well…”

“Okay, wow, I get it.” Zhangjing snaps, the disappointment heavy on his tongue, sharpening his words. “You could have just said no. No need to make it so obvious that sitting with me is the absolute last thing you want to do. Have fun with your friends.” He turns to walk about, fuming, his thoughts stormy, his fists balled up with annoyance. _We wouldn’t have been good friends anyway. Probably._ But the disappointment still lurks beneath the surface, and Zhangjing sighs heavily, wishing he could have started off the year with at least _one_ piece of good news to tell his sister, like actually making a friend.

“Wait, don’t go.” Zhangjing hears the voice coming up behind him, and he starts walking faster, not needing to lash out at this boy that he barely knows, not able to explain away just why he feels so goddamn _hurt_ by such a simple rejection. “I said, wait up.” He feels the hand grabbing at his, and Zhangjing turns around to snap with an anger he doesn’t really understand.

“Stop following me. If you’re here to lecture me again on how I shouldn’t have tried to steal from you, then save it. I don’t need a lecture from some goody two-shoes who has probably never had to work for anything in his life and has parents that spoil him with everything that he could possibly want.” Zhangjing glares fiercely at the other boy, who looks panic-stricken, his hands up defensively, shaking his head back and forth in distress. “And besides, it was just a stupid ass lighter. It’s not like I tried to take something important. What kind of weirdo gets all wound up over something like that? And furthermore…” He jabs his finger in the air pointedly punctuating each word, but Yanjun blurts out the words before he can continue, stopping him dead in his tracks.

“I like to burn things, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos, and feedback are always appreciated!
> 
> Twitter: [@loststickienote](https://twitter.com/loststickienote)  
> CC: [@loststickienote](https://curiouscat.me/loststickienote)


	4. Z is for Zealous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> zeal·ous  
> /ˈzeləs/
> 
> adjective  
> having or showing zeal.
> 
> zeal  
> /zēl/
> 
> noun  
> great energy or enthusiasm in pursuit of a cause or an objective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) And yes, I did reference one of Yanjun's famous lines.
> 
> Follow me on Twitter: [@loststickienote](https://twitter.com/loststickienote) for updates, randomness, etc. or to scream about Zhangjun, my DMs are always open.
> 
> Comments, kudos, and feedback are always appreciated!

“I like to burn things, okay?”

The words come out before he can stop them, and Yanjun winces as they do, not meaning to reveal the biggest secret of his life to a complete stranger. _What’s done is done._ The thought calms him, and he feels more okay about spilling his secret than he believed he would. Maybe it’s because he already knows a secret about the other boy. _He won’t say anything or else I would tell too._ A sort of mutually assured destruction of sorts. Yanjun hopes he’s not wrong, still waiting for a reaction from the other boy.

“You…burn things.” The other boy repeats slowly, a dumbfounded look on his face. “Like with fire? Is that what the lighter is for?”

“Uhh, yeah.” Yanjun replies nervously. “With fire. For fun.”

The other boy shakes his head in disbelief. “Crazy, man.” The longest pause in the world ensues. “My name’s Zhangjing.” The boy sticks out his hand for Yanjun to shake. “You’re fucking weird, but I guess that’s okay.”

Yanjun lets out a breath that he doesn’t even realize he’s holding. And it feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, finally being able to share this part of him with someone else. The relief turns into a tumbling of words, and they feel as if they can’t come out of his mouth fast enough. “Yeah, I like burning things. Not really important things. Mostly my papers from school or notebooks or just random stuff I find that doesn’t seem useful to anyone. It’s actually why I was late for class this morning.” Yanjun stops himself from babbling on further, digging his nails into his palms, the tiny twinge of pain calming him down.

“I see.” He’s surprised that Zhangjing doesn’t seem fazed at all by any of it. Instead, the other boy is looking at him with an excited expression. _Well, this isn’t exactly the reaction I was expecting._ “I’ve never met anyone who just likes burning shit for no reason.”

Yanjun wonders if he should take offense, and he’s about to retort when Zhangjing cuts him off. “Meet me after school outside the library.” The other boy scampers away quickly, leaving him alone to wonder what exactly he’s gotten himself into for the rest of the day.

Zhangjing is waiting for him as promised in front of the library, rocking back and forth on his heels like a little kid, glancing around impatiently. Yanjun lifts his hand in a half-hearted wave when he sees the other boy, who immediately lights up with glee. “Are you doing anything?” Before Yanjun can even respond, Zhangjing grabs his hand, dragging him along to the entrance. “Come on, let’s hang out at the mall.”

Yanjun feels only the tiniest bit of regret for not mentioning that he has to go to practice today. Half an hour later and he feels like he’s had whiplash, his head not used to bobbing up and down so much recently, the base of his neck and shoulders feeling sore. _Zhangjing sure talks a lot._ The shorter boy had been going on without rest, and Yanjun wonders if Zhangjing ever needs to breathe. Even while eating his ice cream, the other boy doesn’t stop talking.

“So, tell me about yourself.” Zhangjing looks at him with earnest eyes from across the table. “Is it just you at home with your parents?” Yanjun hesitates a bit before nodding. “What do you do outside of school usually?”

He takes a sip of his bubble tea, slurping up the last of it. “I don’t really do anything besides basketball.” Zhangjing makes an _aha_ , pointing his finger triumphantly at him. “I _knew_ you had to play a sport. Lemme guess, you’re the best one on the team too.”

_Not anymore._

“Sort of, I guess.” Yanjun feels his cheeks go warm, not sure why he feels the need to impress this boy that he’s just met.

“I bet you get really good grades too.” Zhangjing says wistfully, taking a bite out of his sandwich, chewing enthusiastically and smiling at him after swallowing his food. Yanjun can’t help but notice the other boy’s larger-than-normal front teeth, reminiscent of a rabbit. The thought makes him giggle, waving off the questioning look that Zhangjing shoots him.

“Yeah, I do okay.” Yanjun wonders if he should be here with Zhangjing instead of finishing his mountain of assignments due at the end of the week. Just the thought of sitting at his desk again well into the night, the grueling grind of making sure every little thing he gets down on paper is perfection before the deadline, makes his head hurt even more, and Yanjun brushes it off to the back of his mind, the guilt niggling at him still.

“Relationships? Let me guess, dating captain of the tennis team? What’s her name? Mei Qi?” The other boy wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at him.

He feels the blush heating the back of his neck, the tips of his ears getting warm. “The captain of the basketball team actually. Ziyi.” Yanjun can’t tell whether or not the other boy is reacting positively or negatively, the blank expression on Zhangjing’s face a bit hard to read. “And _ex_ -boyfriend.” He feels dizzy and lightheaded all of a sudden, not sure why he felt the need to impress upon Zhangjing that Ziyi is an ex. Maybe because he’s single, desperately single.

Zhangjing doesn’t comment though, instead looking at him in awe, making a warm fuzzy feeling rise in his chest. “I’ve never met anyone so perfect before.”

Yanjun shakes his head vehemently. “I’m really not perfect.” But the other boy looks at him with a self-affirming expression on his face, clearly with his mind made up. “I’m really _not_.” He insists, though the expression on Zhangjing’s face doesn’t change.

“Anyway, I need to buy something for my sister if you’re okay with waiting around for me.” Yanjun nods in agreement, following the shorter boy to a clothing store. “I’ll be really quick, she gave me a list. You want to just wait out here for me?” Zhangjing smiles, flashing his front bunny teeth at him, mouth wide open in a grin, motioning at the benches. “I promise I won’t take long. Thanks so much for letting me drag you around by the way.”

“No problem.” Yanjun pauses. “Today was fun.”

And with a shock, he realizes that he means it, the feeling of fun one that he hasn’t felt for a very long time, too accustomed to only feeling the constant pressure, from school, from his parents, from his teammates, all the time.

With a wink, Zhangjing disappears into the store, and Yanjun takes out one of the books in his backpack to read. He is so absorbed in catching up on the plot that he almost doesn’t hear Zhangjing’s voice.

“Hey!” The other boy is walking towards him, waving, his teeth unmistakable though Zhangjing’s face is half-hidden by a huge pair of sunglasses. And the shorter boy is walking faster now, his legs clearly speeding up into a power walk, nearing Yanjun, his figure getting closer and closer, bigger and bigger. And Zhangjing’s lips are moving too, mouthing something at him in an effort to make him understand silently.

It takes Yanjun a few moments to figure it out.

_Run._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos, and feedback are always appreciated!
> 
> Twitter: [@loststickienote](https://twitter.com/loststickienote)  
> CC: [@loststickienote](https://curiouscat.me/loststickienote)


	5. Y is for Yearning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yearn·ing  
> /ˈyərniNG/
> 
> noun  
> a feeling of intense longing for something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still working on this fic! I actually have the whole thing plotted out, but I'm trying to get some other stuff written in time for Zhangjing's birthday. Hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> Follow me on Twitter: [@loststickienote](https://twitter.com/loststickienote) for updates, randomness, etc. or to scream about Zhangjun, my DMs are always open.

Zhangjing laughs, watching Yanjun’s eyes widen in shock, the other boy quickly grabbing his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders and following. He weaves expertly around the crowd of people, making sure to keep his head ducked low, glancing back once in a while to make sure Yanjun is keeping up. They finally make their way to the entrance, and Zhangjing slows down for the other boy to catch up. Yanjun is panting hard, and he can’t help but poke fun, his voice teasing. “What happened Mr-star-basketball-player? Can’t keep up on such a short run?”

“I wasn’t ready for it.” Yanjun manages to get out, his hands on his knees still.

“Well, I got everything we need.” Zhangjing grins at the taller boy, shaking his backpack triumphantly, the rattle of today’s bounty shaking around with a clatter. “Now let’s go burn it.”

“Wait,” The other boy’s eyes are as big as saucers now, the disbelief written all over his face. “WHAT?”

Zhangjing nods. “I thought you liked to burn things?” He arches an eyebrow questioningly. “So I just grabbed a bunch of random stuff. Is there anywhere we can go?”

The other boy only hesitates for a fraction of a second. “We can go to my place, I guess.”

Yanjun’s house is the largest home he’s ever been inside, the chandelier in the foyer wowing him into a stunned silence, Very big. _But very empty._ No one comes to greet them, and the only sound that Zhangjing hears is the scratching noise of their shoes against the floor as they leave them near the front door. The silence is almost unsettling, quieter than he is used to, especially at home, his sister always turning their kitchen into a war zone for dinner, setting off the fire alarm at least once a week. He’s bursting at the seams wanting to speak but holds back, looking for some indication from Yanjun.

Finally he can’t hold it in any more.

“So can we do this here? Won’t your parents find out?” Zhangjing follows Yanjun through the home to the backyard, accepting the pair of sandals the other boy hands him before stepping on to their back patio.

The sandals are a tad too loose, and he nearly trips walking outside, grabbing at Yanjun’s arm to steady himself. “Careful.” Yanjun’s voice is soft, different from the tone Zhangjing heard at school or the mall, more pliant and willowy as if his words can just float away after not being anchored down, slipping just out of grasp.

“No, my parents won’t be back for a while. They’re always late.”

“Really? What are you doing for dinner then?” Zhangjing pauses, wondering if it’s too soon to invite the other boy over. _After all, we really only just met officially today._ But it would be nice, nice to have a friend to introduce to his sister. _Just so Jie can stop worrying._ “…would you be interested in coming over to eat at my place afterwards?”

_He’s getting red._

Zhangjing watches, fascinated as the blush rises up in the taller boy’s cheeks, the tips of Yanjun’s ears getting pink too. And he doesn’t know why it’s happening, but the other boy’s embarrassment is making _him_ embarrassed too, and suddenly he feels uncomfortably hot, feeling the flush crawl up his neck. He breaks eye contact, not able to look Yanjun in the eye anymore, staring down at his feet, choosing to scuff his borrowed sandals against the ground instead.

“Yeah, actually. I would love that.” The words make him raise his head again, carefully trying to gauge the other boy’s reaction. With relief, he sees that Yanjun is smiling at him, his dimples flashing in his cheeks like little indents from pressing inwards on fresh clay. Yanjun motions at a small metal trashcan in the corner, waving Zhangjing over. “This is where I usually dump stuff I burn so that nothing else catches fire.”

Zhangjing feels the excitement and curiosity brewing in his chest, creating the perfect storm, and he hurriedly unzips and overturns his backpack, letting the few items from the store he had taken roll out perfectly into the trashbin, the still-attached pricetags mockingly staring up at him. “Uhhh, Zhangjing?” The excitement dissipates when he turns to see Yanjun staring at him with a serious expression on his face. “This isn’t going to work.”

The weight settles on him like a cloak, and Zhangjing wishes it is real so that he could hide himself away from the scrutiny of the other boy’s gaze. _Not going to work? After all that, **now** is the time you want to back out of becoming friends? _The thought rips through his head like a tornado, throwing all his logic and sensibility into a tailspin. “What you grabbed isn’t very _burnable_.”

Yanjun is looking forlornly down at the small stash with such regret that Zhangjing bursts out laughing, the giddiness overwhelming him into a good minute or two of full bellyache laughs that make his sides hurt with the relief that he had not somehow driven off the only classmate to talk to him. And the other boy is right. He had gone with whatever off the shelf that caught his eye, the colors bright and cheerful against the stark white of the wall, a mix of blues, greens, and yellows, the light from the window making spots of color dance in the air. Yes, the cups had been pretty.

But they were also glass.

“Nevermind, we can just keep these for now. They’re so pretty, it would be such a shame to destroy them anyway.” Yanjun hands him two of the cups, keeping the other two for himself. The taller boy looks at him apologetically. “I don’t really have anything left in the house that we can burn, the papers I have left are all assignments that need to be turned in. Maybe we can meet some other time to burn things?”

_Such a strange statement._

Zhangjing nods in assent, placing the two cups back into his backpack, making sure he doesn’t jostle the items around too much. “Yeah, you can show me later. Why don’t we just go to my place for now?”

An unfamiliar nervousness rises up in him when Yanjun smiles back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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